Our Man in Saigon: The AP's Malcolm W. Browne

The call woke Malcolm W. Browne at 2:30 in the morning on September 18, 1964. He stumbled across his apartment, located above his Associated Press office at 158/D3 Rue Pasteur in Saigon, South Vietnam, to answer. It was from one of his police sources, who informed the AP’s bureau chief that there had been a fight at the docks involving Americans and he might want to visit the scene.

Browne dressed in  hurry and drove to the docks in the office’s Land Rover, painted bright red with white signs in Vietnamese and English reading “Bao Chi,” identifying it as belonging to a member of the press. Once there, he learned that four seamen from Guam had been in a fight with some South Vietnamese Rangers and police; one sailor had been wounded in the throat but had survived. Browne returned to his office, wrote his story, and took it to the telecommunications center to send it to the AP office in Tokyo, Japan, for distribution to member newspapers in the United States. He finally made it back to his bed at 3:50 a.m.

The newsman woke again at 7:15 a.m., showered, and ate his breakfast of a bowl of Wheaties and a cup of strong, black coffee. Finished, he walked downstairs to the cramped AP office, which always looked to him “more like a command post than a news agency office.” Filing cabinets dominated one wall, while others were covered with floor-to-ceiling sector maps of the country with plastic overlays on which the staff kept track of important battles. 

Located near Browne’s desk was the field gear he could grab at a moment’s notice for a dash to the airport to board a helicopter when word came about a new firefight. He skimmed the morning newspapers, then told one of his colleagues to cover a meeting at nine that morning involving Major General Duong Van Minh with civilian politicians organizing a new advisory council. Browne also made sure to book a call to Tokyo from the AP office for later that day on the office’s lone cracked, green telephone. At 8:40 a.m. Browne telephoned a U.S. military spokesman seeking any new developments in the conflict with North Vietnam. What slight details he received from the tight-lipped official he cabled to Tokyo.

By 8:45 a.m. Browne was back in the Land Rover for a meeting with a Vietnamese student organizer, Ton That Tue, seeking his reaction to the formation of the new national council. Tue expressed his dissatisfaction with the new council to Browne, who also learned that the students would probably hold off on any new street demonstrations for now. 

The call from Tokyo came through at 11:17 a.m. and Browne dictated dispatches from himself and his colleague. He was off again a half-hour later, leaving the office to cover a demonstration ten blocks away involving dentists demanding a repeal of an old government decree denying them needed dental materials. The strike appeared to be related to general strike plans of several labor organizations.

Returning to his apartment at 12:30 p.m., Browne ate lunch, consisting of a sandwich, a glass of milk, and more strong coffee. He did not stay alone long; five minutes after beginning to eat, he welcomed a police source, who shared with him new leaflets from the Viet Cong being distributed around Saigon at night. “Text was interesting to me but apparently not newsworthy, so did not file,” Browne recalled. He finished his lunch.

At 1:00 p.m. Browne went to see Colonel Pham Ngoc Thao, whom he believed might be a good subject for a feature story. He waited outside Thao’s office for an hour, then was finally ushered in for “a long and instructive talk. I have known Thao for three years and we talk frankly.” Upon his return to his office, Browne wrote a dispatch to send to Tokyo, scheduled to be transmitted at 5:15 p.m. but which had to be at the telecommunication center by 4:00 p.m.

After writing his Thao article, Browne phoned “an unofficial military source” and heard that six U.S. servicemen had been wounded in the past two days in various actions. He also checked with another official on a United Press International report that Viet Cong activity had been on the rise. “Official denied any noticeable upturn in activity,” Browne reported. He covered all this in one story and added a small piece on the new German ambassador presenting his credentials.

At 4:00 p.m. Browne had time to read his mail, including a letter informing him that his grandmother had died. He also wrote four or five business letters, mainly in connection with money and staff matters. An hour later, he checked with student leaders on the outcome of their latest talks with the government and filed a fresh lead on his article. A spokesman from the U.S. embassy called Browne at 5:20 p.m. to describe Ambassador Maxwell Taylor’s activities during the day, including talks with Vietnamese officials and religious leaders. “Spokesman will not say what they talked about,” noted Browne. “File this as an add to unrest story.”

At 6:30 p.m. he checked the night’s edition of the government’s news agency bulletin but found nothing newsworthy. Five minutes later, a government spokesman called the AP office to let Browne know of a press conference scheduled for the next morning; Browne assigned the story to others in the office. He also cabled Tokyo asking the staff there to call the Saigon office if they did not hear from the office by 10:00 a.m. the next day.

After showering and a quick change of clothes, Browne went to dinner at 7:00 p.m. with the director of a Saigon radio station whose son had just been returned to him after being kidnapped. “This man is my friend, and I’m sorry about kidnapping,” Browne wrote. Back to the office by 8:35 p.m., he received a tip reporting that troops from Cambodia had invaded South Vietnam. “I check for 30 minutes all best qualified sources, determine report is untrue,” he noted.

Shortly after 9:00 p.m., a representative from one of South Vietnam’s smaller political parties stopped by the AP office inviting Browne to an upcoming press conference. He thanked the man and said he would try to send someone if possible. At 9:30 p.m. the AP staff heard a loud explosion outside. Browne checked all his sources and discovered that what they had heard was “merely artillery on a routine firing mission outside” the city. Relieved, Browne and his staff talked about the next day’s schedule.

At 10:00 p.m. Browne, trying to shower, had to step out to answer a call from a U.S. intelligence source wanting to be briefed on what he had heard from Vietnamese students that day. A few minutes later, a Japanese correspondent called Browne also seeking an update on any newsworthy items. “I say nothing much happened,” Browne recalled. “This is approximately the 40^th call of day from correspondents, principally American and Japanese, wanting to know what is going on, and I am in a bad temper because these people never give us anything in return. In fact, 90 per cent of their news is rewritten from the AP file.”

Browne received his final telephone call of the day a little after 11:00 p.m.; it came from a police source letting him know that three suspected Viet Cong had just been arrested in Saigon’s fifth precinct. The suspects carried with them “some interesting documents.” Browne concluded that the information was not worth filing anything about. After finishing off another bowl of cereal, he finally gets to bed. “Unpleasant and unproductive day which left too many loose ends dangling,” he decided. Just another day at the office.